


Peach Sky

by orphan_account



Category: South Park
Genre: Gender Dysphoria, Gender Identity, Genderqueer Character, M/M, Trans Male Character
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-08-10
Updated: 2014-08-10
Packaged: 2018-02-12 14:41:47
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,074
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2113782
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Kenny comes to Butters' house for a makeover, a nap, and an impromptu game of Truth or Dare, but when Linda returns home from work, their pleasant evening is quickly ruined.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Peach Sky

  
Butters runs a hand through Kenny's hair, the ragged ends of his chewed fingernails catching on the greasy strands. He holds the locks in place behind Kenny's pierced ear, takes a plastic barrette from between his teeth, and slides it underneath their hair before snapping the clip shut. He drops his hands and pulls away. Kenny looks up at him and grins, but Butters knows they are nervous, playing with the raggedy strings from the end of their sleeves in their lap.

"Do I look okay?" they ask, sitting on the edge of Butters' bed. Their teeth are yellow and chipped. The comforter underneath them is blue, dotted with pink.

"Yeah," Butters nods, smiling, "you do."

He rifles through the Hello Kitty makeup bag sitting beside Kenny and pulls out a container of foundation with a large brush. Kenny watches him unscrew the cap. "Close your eyes," he orders.

Butters sets his hand on Kenny's jaw as he erases all the acne scars, freckles, and blotches of red from their skin. He switches to blush and dusts the hollows of their cheekbones. He opens a tiny palette of orange eyeshadow he bought just for today and starts sweeping it across their lids.

"You're good at this," Kenny mutters when Butters is finished, opening their eyes.

Butters swallows. He tucks a wisp of hair that fell out of its braid behind his ear and focuses on putting everything back in the makeup bag. "My mom taught me when I turned twelve." He fumbles with a tube of mascara, schools his voice to remain normal, and changes the subject, his fingertips at Kenny's chin. "Look up."

Kenny does, their blue irises ablaze, bordered by their favorite color. Butters applies the mascara. He wonders if Kenny can smell his perfume, so close like this; he can smell their Axe, and wonders if it's a leftover from last night's escapade he was told about, with Bebe, Stark Pond at one in the morning, and the back of Kevin's truck.

"You need to sleep more, buddy," Butters reprimands, screwing the mascara cap back on, taking note of the bags under Kenny's eyes.

Kenny shrugs. "I'll sleep when I'm dead."

Butters purses his lips, zips up the makeup bag. . "You shouldn't say things like that." He figured everything out awhile ago

Kenny stares at him for a second, before looking away with a shrug and flopping back onto the mattress. "Chill."

"You look tired." The cosmetics rattle as Butters nervously tightens his grip on the bag. "You could...sleep here. T--take a nap. My mom won't be home for a couple of hours." He returns the makeup to the top of his dresser, then sits at the edge of the bed beside Kenny's knee, which is red, scabbed over from some millionth injury, visible from the gaping hole in their jeans. "It'll be like a sleepover. A really short one."

"I've never slept over at a girl's house before."

Butters grits his teeth. He fists his courdorys he won't rub his knuckles together, and forces himself to look over his shoulder and smile. "Really? Well, that's going to change right now, pal!"

He stands up and opens his dresser. Kenny sits up behind him. "Here--" he tosses them a pair of Hello Kitty pajama pants. "These are baggy, they'll fit." Though it isn't a problem--Kenny's skinnier than Butters, and not that much taller either. He starts looking for a shirt when Kenny says they don't need one.

"What?" Butters looks around, then squeaks and turns crimson when he sees Kenny shirtless, slipping out of their tattered jeans. "You--jeeze, they're pierced?"

"Huh? Oh, yeah." Kenny snorts. "You like it? I could do yours."

Butters quickly crosses his arms to cover up his chest, unsure if he's more mortified at the thought of getting his nipples pierced, or Kenny seeing his bare chest. He huffs and spins around, glares down at his folded pajamas. "Just get dressed."

Kenny complies. They splay out on Butters' bed afterwards, looking up at him through their lashes, the long, dishwater blonde hair they grew out spilling across their cheekbone and sticking to the corner of their chapped lips. "Do we play truth or dare or something?"

"You need to sleep," Butters insists, but Kenny sits up instead, leans against the wall, and pats the spot beside him. Butters sighs and climbs up onto his bed. He sits next to Kenny, legs curled up to his chest. He can smell their Axe again.

"Truth or dare?" they ask.

"Truth," Butters reluctnatly says, tucking another stand of hair behind his ear.

Kenny hums. "Christ, this is hard. You're too nice. You couldn't do anything." Their nose scrunches in thought, and Butters smiles at the sight.

"I'll go first then," he says. "Truth or dare?"

Kenny lolls their head back onto the wall. "Truth."

"Did it hurt when you got your nipples pierced?"

Kenny laughs. "What kinda truth is that?" They shake their head and shrug. "I dunno. I have a pretty high pain tolerance. I'm probably not the person you should be asking that."

It doesn't take Butters long to guess why. "Okay." He scoots closer, so his shoulder touches theirs. "Your turn."

Kenny watches him for a second before looking back up at the ceiling. "Truth or dare?"

"Truth."

"Would you get your nipples pierced?"

Butters eyes widen. "No! That's so--no. My parents would ground me."

"What, they give you body checks?"

Butters scoffs, though he wouldn't put it past them. "No. But...whatever." He doesn't want to go into how they eventually always find out everything about him, or how he's paranoid about being spied on, and sometimes wonders if they implanted a tracking device into his arm. He glances back at Kenny. "Truth or dare?"

"Truth."

Butters drums his fingers on his knees, trying to think of a good question, scared Kenny might get bored without anything exciting. "Did you get those from Bebe?" he asks, pointing to the hickeys scattered across Kenny's neck and collarbone--and immediately retracts his hand and looks away. He hadn't meant to ask, but it was the first thing that came to mind. "S--sorry."

Kenny nudges his shoulder. "It's cool. It's not like I keep a lotta secrets about this stuff. Anyways, yeah. They are."

Butters lifts his head, looking at the blotches of purpled skin. "Is she good?" It comes out in almost a whisper.

For a couple of seconds, Kenny stares at him again, before they speak. "She's alright. Not the best, but definitely not the worst, if you know what I mean."

"I don't."

Kenny leans in, snaking a hand up Butters' shin. "Wanna learn?"

"J--just ask me my truth or dare!" Butters pushes them away by their chest, and feels Kenny's laugh reverberate against his palms. He snatches his hands back.

"I'm kidding, damn... Truth or dare?"

Butters pauses. He stares at his knees. "Dare."

He can see Kenny grin out of the corner of his eyes. "I dare you to tell me one of your biggest secrets."

"That's like a truth! You're cheating."

"Just do it, come on," Kenny eggs on. "What could you be hiding, anyways?"

A lot, Butters wants to say, but he doesn't. A little voice in his head repeats "Tell them, tell them, tell them," but he doesn't listen to it, either. Eventually he settles on a fake story about how one Thanksgiving, when he was little, he ate an entire tub of butter and threw up, and that's how he got his name. It's a lie, and he worries that Kenny knows it's a lie, and he finishes with, "I'm boring, it's a stupid story, I'm sorry."

"You aren't boring," Kenny assures him, speaking softer than they have all evening. "It's cute. You're cute. You don't have to have some crazy fucked up shit to be interesting."

Butters furrows his eyebrows, surprised at the sentiment. Kenny looks through the blinds of the window behind them, and Butters sees slats of sunset, peeking through. "I like you just the way you are, Butters," Kenny murmurs, peach sky in their blue eyes. "Nice and boring."

They lay down across the bed, their head at Butters' socked feet, and close their eyes. "Your bed smells good. It smells like you."

"It smells like the perfume my mom got me."

"It's a good smell," Kenny yawns.

Butters manuvers around them to pick up a spare blanket, pink with hearts on it, and covers them. "Go to bed," he says.

Kenny falls asleep, their hands cushioning their face, their elbows cocked out at ninety-degree angles. Their hair falls across their cheeks again, the ends sticking to the corner of their lips. Butters leaves to the bathroom, where he sits on the toilet and starts to cry.

When he returns, Kenny is sleeping in the same position. He lays down on the edge of the bed, making sure not to touch them, and closes his eyes, which are sore from crying, because he wants to, and because he can.

He turns his face into the comforter, sniffs, and barely smells anything at all. Just a hint of Axe.

/

Kenny is the one who wakes him up, shaking his shoulder and harshly whispering, "I think your mom is home."

Butters furrows his eyebrows, then slowly starts to come to his senses. "Fuck!"

He moves to roll off the bed, but is met with more mattress. He doesn't think about it and walks to his dresser, tosses Kenny a sweater his grandmother bought him that's too big, and a pair of pants his older cousin left a Christmas ago. "Put these on."

As Kenny gets dressed, Butters searches his desk, muttering "hamburgers, hamburgers" over and over again. He opens up a random notebook and shoves it into Kenny's hands with a pink, feathered pen.

"What--"

"We're working on an English project, okay?"

Kenny nods, but Butters is already leaving the room and jogging downstairs, straigthening out his sweater as he goes. "Mom! Hi--"--a big smile--"I didn't hear you come in."

Linda looks up from the glass of wine she's pouring to the brim at the kitchen counter, still wearing her coat. "Hello, sweetheart," she greets.

"Here, let me..." Butters takes his mother's coat and hangs it up on the rack beside the front door. When he returns to the kitchen, he asks, "How was work?"

"Terrible," Linda says, taking a large sip of wine. She scans the kitchen and narrows her eyes. "What's that?"

"What's wh--what?" Butters stutters, rubbing his fists together.

Linda strides towards the left side of the sink, her heels clacking, and picks up a jug of milk. "This! Did you leave the milk out, Leonora?"

"No," Butters insists, "Mom, I didn't--"

"I can't fucking believe this!" Linda shouts, slamming her wine glass onto the counter. She throws the refrigerator door open and shoves the milk in. "You can't even pick up after yourself!"

"Mom, it wasn't me--"

"Stop making up excuses! I'm trying to raise a perfect daughter! I can't do that when you're a lazy slob, Leonora."

Butters nods. "I'm sorry, Mom."

"Do you know how hard this is for me, with your faggot father never doing anything around here?"

"Yes, Mom. I'm sorry, I'll do better. I'm sorry."

Linda picks up her wine glass. "Get out of my sight."

Kenny is at the doorway when Butters returns to his room. He shakes his head and picks up their clothes from the floor. "I thought she would come up here," he says, voice thick with tears. He holds out Kenny's clothes, avoiding their eyes. "You can keep the clothes, though. I never wore them."

"Butters--"

"My mom just had a bad day." Butters takes Kenny's wrist and leads them down the hallway. He pauses at the middle of the staircase and whispers, staring at his feet, "I'm glad you came over. I'm sorry I slept. I'll tell you when you can walk out the door."

He starts moving away when Kenny catches his sleeve. "Thank you."

Butters tries to smile, finally meeting their eyes. "You're welcome."

He peeks into the kitchen and sees his mother sitting at the table, pouring more wine, and gestures for Kenny to leave. Linda silently watches as he enters the room and starts pulling out noodles and sauce for chicken alfredo. The front door quietly shuts behind him.

 

 

**Author's Note:**

> ive had this idea for while, but only just finished writing it now. this au will be expanded as much as my motivation will allow, and deals w/ various serious topics, but happy ones too. dont worry, its not all bad. 
> 
> thank you for reading


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